From the right perspective, historical preservation is an absurd joke. Someone could write a splendiferous treatise on metaphysics, only for some detail to be declared a threat to the wellbeing of society, resulting in the annihilation of all copies. Or maybe some noblewoman’s diary has survived the ravages of time to the present, so now scholars are poring over a dead person’s private thoughts to figure out how people used to spend their free time in the distant past. The passage of time is unfair and arbitrary and unforgivingly irreversible. So it’s a good day when you find some high quality glass sculptures in salvageable condition.

What stood out to me the most during Professor Harvell’s presentation about the Blaschka family’s glass sculptures of various forms of aquatic life and contemporary efforts at coral reef preservation was the ironic contrast between the two. For years, these beautiful glass replicas of octopi, jellyfish, and other creatures of the deep have been languishing in the dark while their living counterparts experience more and more duress as their habitats are disturbed by human encroachment. That the fates of these two parties have converged once more is a testament to the fragility of existence. A strong push can knock almost anything out of being; we must remain aware of our surroundings, lest we allow them to slip into oblivion because they just seemed like they’d always be there.